


torrent

by whitearrow



Series: flood [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Starlight Celebration, starlight 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitearrow/pseuds/whitearrow
Summary: of emotions of all sorts; anguished, joyful, or perhaps naught but serenity.collection of one-shots, will feature different ships and characters (you may consider each ship its own verse, ships will be at top of chapter). will attempt to keep f!wol mostly vague (chapter will have a note on top if race or any hc are mentioned).Will spoil heavensward, any stormblood spoilers will be warned at the beginningif ship, will be mentioned in chapter titlethanks for reading!there may or may not be a companion nsfw one shot series to this that'll be titled delugefirst Starlight 2018 chapter up! also prompts are open~





	1. estinien/wol--night before hraesvelgr meeting

**Author's Note:**

> errant thoughts in the midst of a tense evening  
> estinien/f!wol

Though Estinien had an inkling of what the Warrior of Light would ask of him, he would humour her yet. He sat beside her on the bedroll within their rather cramped tent. He would typically share the space with the youngster of the group, while the two women had the other (though it was not much more of a luxury). Yet it would suffice to protect them from the elements, and the bitter chill of the outdoors. It was the eve before their meeting with Hraesvelgr (they prayed, at least, the weather would be ideal in the morn). “Tell me, what prompted the change in sleeping arrangements tonight? Ah, you wished to spare yourself of yet another one of Ysale’s sermons, though what the boy has done to deserve this, I do not know…”   
  
“Estinien,” she rebuked him gently. “She has been nothing but cordi--”   
  
He flashed her a glare to spare of him of such falsehoods.

 

Though she had bested primals, he had little trouble silencing her with his trademark steely look. She pulled her part of the blanket up over her knees and sighed. “Well alright, but you cannot claim to have no fault.”   
  
Estinien conceded nothing but a shrug of his shoulder. “Speak, Warrior.”   
  
“Well...I was told to look out for you.”   
  
“Mm,” he said noncommittally, mulling over whom his well wisher could be.

 

“You...you’ve been different.”   
  
“Mm,” he said once more. She pouted softly, and pressed him. But he would give her naught. “Have I softened up? Pray tell, I can sharpen my wit once more.”   
  
“Estinien...You’ve been quiet. And no,” she added impatiently, with a small huff, “I don’t mean for you to sass me anymore than you already have.”   
  
He sorely resisted the temptation to make yet another quip. After all, it was far better to harass his friend than to think of painful events, of unending nightmares. The answer he gave her was simple. “I’ve been thinking.”   
  
“About?” She leaned forward.   
  
“Many things.” he answered just as tersely.   
  
“Such as…?” The impatience in her voice did not miss him.   
  
“None you need to concern yourself with.” Though it had taken time for both him to understand her, and for her to reveal more of her true countenance, he would say he could sufficiently read the Warrior of Light these day (a fact that delighted him more than he would care to admit). And so the way her face fell ever so slightly betrayed that she was indeed hurt by this remark. “You are used to those around you baring to you their thoughts, their emotions. I do not fault you for wanting to know of mine. But tell me, Natsuko--though we are close, if I may assume so...must we dredge up painful memories? At a time like this even. We have far enough ahead of us. And you--you have not been forthcoming with anything.”

 

“You know naught of me...nor I of you.” She sighed.    
  
He nodded imperceptibly. “Tis not only I, who remains in the dark. The boy has many a night expressed doubt of your friendship.”   
  
It truly was news to her, if the way she reeled backwards was to be any indication. She bit her lip awhile as a gust of wind strayed into the tent. He silently reached past her to refasten the ties, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. They were painfully close, he realized, and quickly took his position back to sitting down, though now he was all too aware that it wasn’t much better. “I thought we were close friends. Of everyone I know...it is he, who is always at my side.”   
  
“And yet how much have you confided in him? He suspects that it is because he is lacking the courage to shoulder anyone else’s burdens. He is not the single minded fellow that we begun our journey with. He is a kind-hearted lad, though it is now that he’s learnt to see past his schemes.”   
  
“Though I...do not bare my soul to him, I would do anything for him,” she said with a quiet fierceness.He had seen so for himself. Always fretting over him in her own silent ways, she would stand over him protectively, watch him as he learned to handle tasks himself. When something frightened him overmuch, she would pet his head until he would at last smile again. For a woman so powerful and mighty, she had the gentlest soul amongst them, and she saw him no less than a family member. Yet, a wounded soul, if he could gather correctly. There was no way the events in Ul’dah had no effect on her, but none of them were the wiser to it.

 

“And that you would. Yet the commander of Dragonhead has been the sole man to be blessed with the true contents of your heart.” At this she pressed her lips tightly together, and furrowed her eyebrows. 

 

“We were discussing you.”   
  
“Aye. And that discussion ended promptly.”   
  
“And so will this one.”   
  
They both stared at each other for a short while, until he relented with a sigh. It was rare that they would have a disagreement at all. Her disposition was genial, and he found her company the most pleasant of the entire group. He found it prudent to change the topic and ease the air between them.

 

“Now, will you relieve Alphinaud of his companion or stay the night?”

 

“Will you allow me to remain here? Or have I lost the privilege?”   
  
“Nay, my lady,” he allowed a small smile upon his face for the most fleeting of moments. She caught it and smiled back. It was full of relief, he assumed, that they wouldn’t slumber in a tense atmosphere. He lay beside her under the same blanket, and the two of them flushed the same shade of pink. Foolish--it was out of necessity that they camped together. “Let it be known, I have many scruples left. You need not fear for your chastity.”   
  
She let out a peal of laughter. “Azure Dragoon, I dare you to try it.”   
  
“Ah, what is one lecherous elezen against a fearsome primal slayer. Yet, were I to fall prey to lust, I think I should dismember my--”   
  
“Good night, Estinien!” She flushed red and clamped her hand over his mouth. He raised his eyebrow at her and it served to only turn her even redder as she retreated away from him and under the safety of her blanket.  _ Cute _ , he thought.  _ Don’t be daft, you have other things to worry about...and yet would this not be a welcome diversion to unwelcome thoughts... _

 

“I fear it is I, who is in danger,” he muttered rather gravely under his breath. He received no response and chuckled under his breath. Perhaps it was the ire of the Warrior of Light that would be more comfortable than whatever was stirring in his heart right now...and for the nightmares that were sure to visit him in due time.

 

With her back against, however, he prayed that he could have a lighter mind--if only for a little while.


	2. estinien/wol fireside chatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the dravanian gang talk about their Ideal Types

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fun campside banter--these really don't have much plot to them, tbh, just lil drabbles I hope you guys enjoy o/

Estinien knew this was a folly. To calm errant thoughts, he sat upon the only boulder that wasn’t too dewy and mossy for the liking of his rear end. He had his lance in hand and focused upon its polishing. The innuendoes behind this was not lost upon him and...it did not help the very thing he was attempting to escape. Would that the Fury take him. 

He knew she needed not his protection, nor his guidance. 

She was the Warrior of Light, as the whole realm knew. She could best him in a duel and would dance on his corpse (though he prayed such a situation should never arise, though he supposed his grousing may break even her everlasting patience). 

 

Nay, she would give him her soft pout and complain, her hands on her hips (a pose that she never realized she was doing) and say, “Estinien Wyrmblood, I am more than capable of watching myself.”

 

Just imagining that made his heart beat all the little faster. He hated how his thoughts were not always his own. The dragon whose blood ran through his veins would see into his mind. 

 

If he could count a blessing then...it would be that the one dominating his thoughts was the only person that could hold her own against the foul beast. 

 

But it could not come to that. 

 

He would tell the beast himself before he ever let her come to harm. Though his past and Ishgard has ever been his first and foremost duty, this sneaky little woman has inched her way into his priorities. And she would scold him all the same, insisting she was of no import and of little consequence. Which was absolutely absurd, as he was sure anyone would agree…

 

He raised his head at just the right time. She too, had followed in his footsteps and was quietly tending to her own bow. She gave him the softest smile before casting her eyes back down at her handiwork, as the wind cast a gentle breeze swaying the stray strands of her hair. He oft wondered what was going on in that mind of hers. If one observed her outside of combat, they would not know it was the champion of Eorzea standing before them. She was gentle, beautiful, demure...thoughts he’d never deigned to think (and would never speak it). He wondered, then, if she had suitors. Of course she would, anyone with a—ahem. That Haurchefant...he had been rather taken with her…

He peered up at her and opened his mouth before giving it an ounce of thought. “So, have you any suitors?”

 

That was the first time in his life he’s seen her sputter and look so flustered. “P-pardon?” She looked like she had a great deal to say but only gaped at him in pure wonder. What, was such a question that much a novelty? The blush on her cheeks implied as much, and he himself felt embarrassed for asking it. 

 

“Simply curious…” He muttered, and busied himself with polishing the same spot for the umpteenth time.

 

“I—no, in between all of the primal slaying I haven’t found the opportunity to devote my heart to someone…” Her voice was soft and hesitant, and he peeked up to see her a bit forlorn. 

 

“Ah, do not make such a sorrowful face, my lady. I simply wished to make idle gossip,” his voice was filled with apology--a rare feat in and of itself. But she were of such a gentle soul, he felt it sin to irk her at all.

 

“No need to be so apologetic Estinien--I doubt not your intentions.” She gave him a soft and reassuring smile and nodded gently. The question hung in the air still. Was she...taken? As he pondered upon that, she asked a rather unpleasant question. “Have you found someone of your liking? Ysale is quite charming, should you--”   
  
“No,” he said tersely. “I will not even entertain the notion.”   
  
“Then what is your type, Estinien?”

 

How did she direct the conversation toward him? It was usually him, who had dodged her prying by deflecting to her. “I--” He stared at her for several long moments, hard enough he did not register the boy taking a seat beside him until Ysale spoke up. 

 

“Pray tell,” she added icily, taking a seat beside his dear Warrior and perching her arm around her shoulder. How envious was he. “What high standards do you hold, Estinien?”   
  
“MIght I have touched a nerve?” He quipped back. 

  
Alphinaud laughed nervously, and made an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from bickering. “Well, the rest of us are curious as well.”   
  
Estinien retorted, “Aye, curious about a grown man’s affairs? You’ve only but quit your trainers not too long ago.”   
  
Alphinaud’s ears reddened.    
  


“But you lot won’t quit harping on until I tell you, eh? Very well. A sensible woman with a good head on her shoulders...and beautiful, of course.” If he had to go into particulars, he would give himself away immediately, for he could only describe the characteristics of the small warrior before him.   
  
“You would look at outer beauty first,” Ysale sniffed.

 

“Well...perhaps any woman he would fall in love with would appear beautiful to him, wouldn't’t you say? Eye of the beholder, and such.”

 

“Oi, you say a word against my woman and I’ll drag you by the ears,” Estininen made a demonstration of just that. 

 

“Oh, have you a woman, Estinien?”    
  
“Nay...but I have my eyes open. At any rate, till this beast is felled, I have no room for any affairs. By the time I’ve reached the time to begin looking, my life became devoted to slaying Nidhogg. I’ve never been given the liberty to falter.”

 

They all looked at each other uncomfortably. 

 

“Well, what say you, Warrior?”

 

“M-me? I...Well, a kind man will do...People are...ever changing. I wish to find someone I could trust until my last breath.”

 

“And, ahem, appearance wise?” Alphinaud prodded her, and Ysale gave him a reproachful look as Estinien clapped his back. 

 

“Taller than you, be certain,” Estinien snorted.

 

Alphinaud’s ears colored to an even deeper shade. “I--I wasn’t implying--”

 

“Oh be nice,” their Warrior said, and walked on over to where Estinien was harassing Alphinaud. She kindly pet his head a few times, and he blushed and looked down, thought Estinien could see his shite-eating grin very well.

 

“You spoil him so,” Estinien said.

 

“He’s but a young boy,” she replied, a remark to which Alphinaud colored yet once more. “What of you, Ysale?”   
  
“I could answer for her,” Estinien offered. “Kind, and just.”   
  
“Why must you say that as though it were a bad thing?”   
  
“Because it’s the boring answer.”

 

“You said naught to her,” Ysale sighed, and cast him a suspicious glare. Estinien did very well to look determinedly elsewhere.    
  


The Warrior simply sighed and took a seat by Estinien, her cheek lightly resting against his shoulder. “Estinien spoils me so,” she said happily, and laughed merrily when even he, the great dragoon blushed.

 

“I...I do not.”   
  
“Methinks he protest too--Ahem. Come, Ysale, we must needs gather firewood.” Though a tongue for diplomacy, he had little skills of speech when it came to the intimidating man.

 

“Poor dear,” she sighed, and gave him a reproachful look not unlike Ysale’s. Estinien merely shrugged his shoulders and lay his head on hers--an action uncharacteristic of them both but not one either would not dare deny.


	3. Estinien/wol :*

He thought naught of it the first few times he’s held her hand. In the heat of combat to yank her from a particularly nasty blow, or to help her off the ground and go about their business. It was only when these troublesome thoughts sprouted in his mind that he began to put more thought than needed into such simple interactions. 

 

He thought of how her hands were warm and lovely, even though they were calloused from her constant battles. He’d wished to hold them without any excuse nor reason, other than wanting to hold them for its own sake.

 

One day, it was she that made the initiative, though his heart was racing both with nerves and an embarrassing amount of elation. “Estinien,” she said softly, and took his large palm in between his. They had been quietly busying themselves with mending some clothes side by side, shoulder to shoulder by themselves, perched upon a mossy log. Ysale and Alphinaud had once more been given the task of going to make purchase for their dinner, and Estinien and his partner had been allowed to rest with menial work.

 

She looked up at him with those knowing eyes whenever he was lost in a bout of melancholy. In turn, he spoke her name just as quietly. Her shoulders slumped, resigned, knowing that this battle would be over before it began--that she would not be able to pry anything about him no matter how hard she pull. And so she turned to the study of his hands, hands so much larger than her almost miniscule ones in comparison. 

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, unwilling to break the reverie she was in but curious all the same. He was never the touchy-feely type, yet the warrior had no issue holding his hands as she pleased. She traced over every line and scar in his palm, her gentle fingers rubbing circles over his callouses. There were so many stories written into his hands with each and every mark; tales of battles and mishaps transcribed into his pale skin. The way her eyes gazed at them, it sent his heart racing faster than a chocobo before a cart of the freshest gyasahl greens. He’d never seen her tenderness aimed towards him. He would see her kindness towards Ysayle whenever she was particularly down. Or her ruffling Alphinaud’s hair and kissing his head affectionately, to the boy’s (secretly) delighted embarrassment and Estinien’s great envy. But to him--nay, he was being greedy. She was none short of polite to him, and nary did she not greet him with a smile. And was he not usually brusque and unyielding? For his many thoughts about her, little did they ever translate to overt actions on his part. 

 

“I’m curious.”

 

“And you would have your answers from my hands? Have you taken up palm reading as well?”

 

“Nay, but I should consider it. I see the burdens here,” she said gently, tracing her finger over a particularly wide gash running from the apex of his forefinger and middle finger down to the meat of his palm beneath his thumb. “But never here…” She placed one hand on his chest, where his heart beat traitorously fast. Was it a mercy or a bad choice when he’d decided to shed his armor

for the evening? For this was the first touch she afforded him elsewhere...and so close…

 

Estinien should live up to his title. He would fight dragons and yet fear matters of the heart? Well, perhaps man must have some weakness or the other...Nay. 

 

“Feeling sentimental, are we…” he muttered and looked at her, his sharp eyes softening ever so softly. He decided to take control this time, and capture her hands in his. He was more firm and wanting, and she was quick to blush from it. Where she touched him in gentle and short paths, he touched more languidly, with lingering touches as he gazed first at her palms, and then into her eyes. Emboldened, he did something unthinkable. He grazed his lips upon the back of her palm, and a surge of pleasure went through his heart as he heard her gasp softly. His eyes steadied in its contact with hers, as though giving her the chance to end this now. But she did not move back--nay, her lips parted as though she’d wanted more.

 

Elation flooded within him.

 

This time his hands left hers entirely to fill his large hands with her soft, supple, and now rosy cheeks. He dragged the tips of his fingers down, and bent his knuckles to curve over her jawline. The texture of her face was so much different than his. Both warm and cool, he yearned to find the spot that had her hum the loveliest note. To his dismay, she was pouting. 

 

“I-is there aught amiss?” there was a rare note of panic in his voice and she nodded. He made to remove his hands, but she was quicker than he and kept them in place. 

 

“Would you...you know..” she coughed and looked to the side. 

 

“Why...are you being bashful?” he asked incredulously. 

 

“Nngh...Estinien…” she was uncharacteristically pouty and he found her all the cuter for it. She fidgeted to and fro, and before she decided to make an exit to avoid further embarrassment, Estinien gripped her chin with his forefinger and thumb. 

 

“Won’t you speak your mind?”

 

“Do I ever?”

 

“Hm, I wonder…” His blood was rushing in his head but he still wore a smirk just for her. His lips ghosted near hers. He had pushed her patience far enough—though her eyes scrunched, and her cheeks a fiery red, she stole the kiss. Her lips pressed hesitantly to his and they both awkwardly remained that way for several long moments. “Thief,” he murmured softly and then, did they shed their hesitancy and began to explore the wonders of such a simple action. Gentle and endearing, they continued to kiss one another, smiling unabashedly. 

 

Alas, just as his hands began to wander over her back, and hers ventured to ruffle his hair, they were disturbed by none other than one Alphinaud Leveilleur. 

 

He struck a gallantly triumphant pose, a bag of groceries in hand. “We will be having ourselves a feast to--by the twelve!” His eyes bulge out and his eyebrow twitches--it is clear that this is the last thing he’s ever expected to find. 

 

What he also finds, is the rage of one enraged Estinien Wyrmblood, robbed of his one precious moment with the person he holds dearest.

 

Only Hydaelyn’s champion is enough to spare the lordling from the wrath of the Azure Dragoon. Even then her might was not enough—nay, it was the sweet promises of an empty tent and further caresses that lead him away from exacting revenge to stealing half a few hundred kisses with his dear Warrior of Light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just a reminder since these are one shots, i’ll be doing more pre-ship fluff, more getting together moments, etc—everything is in whatever timeline you wanna be! I’ll be doin the other guys too! Tho i should get that smut series up soon (It’ll be titled deluge) hm, how do you guys feel about Hien...Mm I do owe some Estinien fricking too, hm...


	4. starlight 2018 -- Aymeric/WoL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an Aymeric chapter! I hope you guys enjoy <3 PS, my ffxiv twitter is at eirfau, and my writing tungle is at tacticiansquill <3

The only sounds to keep one Ser Aymeric De Borel company were the scritches of his quill, the crackle of the flames of his fireplace, and a particularly nasty continuous howling of the wind outside. To no one’s surprise, there was a blizzard outside. Not that he minded much. It had given him and the others an excuse to work from home today, lest they be stranded overnight. Of course, the soldiers outside needed to work through the hail, but for those who were saddled with naught but paperwork, there was little sense in convening meetings where no one could leave. But no matter. He had missives to write anyway, and what good would it do to put them off? As he crossed his t’s and dotted his i’s, his mind did wander nevertheless, and he sighed wistfully. 

 

“Aymeric?” A small voice was barely audible, and almost lost by the vastness of his quarters. The hesitant call accompanied a series of tinier knocks, and Aymeric smiled wide as he knew who his guest was--one that was more than welcome on a day like this.

 

“Do come in, please.” The door unlocked, and he smiled up at his visitor, until he saw her condition. 

 

The warrior of light was shivering, covered head to toe in snow, clad in naught but--choir attire? Her nose was whiter than white, and the red hat on her head did nothing but retain the frost.    
  
“You’re freezing!” Aymeric hurried over and began to dust her off. He first took off her hat, the greatest offender, in his eyes, and dashed to the nearest rack to get her more suitable clothes. He covered her in scarves and coats, and soon the warrior of light was swallowed by clothes. “Who let you in here in this condition? My goodness, why did you brave such a storm? Is there aught amiss?”  His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to fret and mollycoddle her, and nary a word slipped from her mouth. Aymeric finally conceded silence, to allow her to finally answer. In this, he needed to assist her. He had covered the lower half of her face entirely, and for a few moments, he shuffled the cloth under her face so she could speak.

 

Her cheeks were entirely red--from the cold, he initially surmised. “I...wished to see you.” She peeked up at him, a shy smile on her face as she spoke. Praise Halone….something had gripped his heart. The way she whispered softly, a merry look in her eyes and a shy smile upon her pretty lips…

 

She had enchanted him entirely. Never had he realized just how...small she was--especially in comparison to him. And now that he’s tossed her into a pile of fabric (all his, he realized, which sent a flush further up his neck) she looks even tinier. “You...wished to see me?” he echoed her lamely. “Me..?” He could scarcely believe he would be worth such the time and effort. Nay...there must be further merit to this. “Is there any task I may assist you with..?” He coughed rather self-consciously...the unsteady hesitation in his voice was embarrassing. 

 

“No,” she shook her head and one of the many scarves Aymeric placed upon her fell off. “I wanted to see you. You, Aymeric. I wish you would not make me repeat it so…” She picked the article from the ground and pulled it over her cheeks, bright and red once more. “It’s...embarrassing.” 

 

“I--oh--” He coughed again and reached out to pat her shoulder a few times. “I’m truly glad for your company.”   
  
“Am I interrupting?” She peered behind him to see the paperwork of his desk but Aymeric was quick to assuage her concerns. 

 

“Nay--I simply was working ahead. It may wait. I’m sure this storm will not subside any time soon.”   
  
She smiled brightly at that. “I’m not all too familiar with it myself, but...I wanted to see you for Starlight…”   
  
“Starlight…” his lips murmured the word, and his head jerked up from the realization. With the issues in Ishgard, the holidays had hardly ever been a priority. Ironically so, as Ishgard was where such traditions began, and yet the rest of Eorzea had taken to celebrating it properly. “Would that explain your attire?” He gestured at her, but then realized it was moot.

 

“Well, whatever is left under the mountain you’ve put me under,” she laughed. “I’ve been recruited as a conductor.”

 

“How lovely!” he chuckled along with her, and gestured for her to follow him. His study was no place to relax, and he would have her be at her utmost comfort. She, the warrior of light had come calling to him! In a blizzard, no less! Never did he think that he would be worth such attention. Her boots tapped quickly to match his slower, but longer strides, and he slowed down so they could walk leisurely, side by side. “Should you not have sung, though? You have a most marvelous voice.” She had treated him to her talents as a bard on a singular occasion, but her voice was pretty enough that he would yet to forget the lilts and lulls of her voice. 

 

“You exaggerate my talents,” she said. “The performers do quite well on their own. And besides, I would not have been able to come here, had I been a singer in each show.”   
  
“Indeed--I would have quite missed you.” he admitted, and they both ceased their walk to the parlor. He offered a shy grin of his own, and just as he had felt something grow stronger between them...something fell from the ceiling and on to his poor  chilly guest’s head.

 

“Oof--” The woman beside him removed something from atop her head, to reveal it as none other than a mistletoe. “Erm…”   
  
Aymeric’s eyes widened at the sight of the rare item. “Someone must be feeling festive around here…” he murmured, his ears tinged with a soft shade of pink. 

She tilted her head. “Hm? Is this for Starlight?”   
  
Aymeric slowly nodded, “It..if I am recalling correctly, is mistletoe. It’s erm...an interesting tradition.”

 

She studied him with a quizzical glance. Obviously his explanation warranted further details. 

 

“People...are meant to kiss underneath it.”

 

“Oh!” she smiled brightly. “How swe--” Her smile froze as she looked upwards, and then towards him. So it appears she has realized the implication. “Well..if that is the custom…” She looked up towards him with such fervor that he found himself closing the distance between them. The tip of his shoes touched the tips of hers, and he carefully held the sides of her arms. Her countenance turned all the softer, and she stood on the tips of her toes, the heels of her feet up in the air. Gently, she pressed her hands against his chest, her fingers curling up by where his heart beat with very, very loud thumps. 

 

“Please do not...feel pressured. The last thing I would ever want would be...for you…” Here he went again with his pauses and inhales and hesitation. It was pitiful--a man should be confident in a situation like this. But what could he do? He was an expert in combat and paperwork, and knew not how to please the woman in his arms.

 

The woman in his arms...now, that had a pleasant ring to it. 

 

Her lower lip jut out into a soft pout.  “You know I’m not bound by tradition no longer...But if this displeases you then--” She gasped as Aymeric held her chin, and then drummed his fingers over her jawline.    
  
He grins boyishly at her, a little more daring now. “Displease me? I believe you’re quite mistaken there. How I’ve wanted us to become like this. Truly, I did not think this would be the manner in which I could finally be by your side.”   
  
“A starlight miracle, then,” she quipped, and deciding that she would no longer wait, she pulled down his collar so that he would get the message. And understand it he did, for he tilted his head and captured her soft, supple lips in his. As they were still in the hallway, they restrained themselves to exchange quiet, but seemingly endless pecks. The wind howled even harder outside, but they paid it no mind. If anything, the growing cold pressed them together even further, until they eventually fled into the parlor, and under a cozy warm blanket. Despite her protests that she didn’t need to be bundled in anything else, all complaints ceased when Aymeric wrapped his arms around her, his head on her shoulder and his lips at her neck. 

 

Though he would prevent her from braving such a winter storm again, he couldn’t rebuke her at all--not when the reward was being wrapped up with his most favorite adventurer. 


	5. Hien/Wol--Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hien finally! I'll be posting a companion, erm, nsfw follow up under a diff set of one shots and then add a link here--would add here but want to keep it sfw for those that prefer it.  
> NSFW follow up link o/ 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335595/chapters/40784834  
> feel free to follow my ffxiv twitter at eirfau o/   
> and my writing tumblr is tacticiansquill <3

The Doman lord was absolutely nothing as she’d expected he would be. His existence was a nigh mystery—she’d heard tales celebrating his bravery, and fear that he would deliver his head for the sake of his people. She’d taken him for the strong and stoic type. A leader to stand tall and silent, carefully watching over his subject.

This man, however, delivered his speeches with such bravado and charisma that it sent her reeling. Where they had embarked on a journey of perils to find him, here he was, resting upon the lush green grasses of the Steppe, admiring its visage in all its glory of fine pastures, grazing sheep, and mountains ragged and majestic. How carefree did he seem, though his eyes, intense and fiery spoke multitudes more than his words.

It was here, he preferred to sleep. Insisting that there would be no tent required, for the night sky was the only ceiling he needed, he preferred the ground as his mattress—he looked content as though he were slumbering upon a mass of the finest feathered bed there were.

But it had bothered her overmuch. What if he were to catch a cold? Did no one think of these things? His retainers enjoyed to fuss over him, did they not think that he too could be susceptible to illness? His frivolous nature would surely invite something unfortunate. Nay, it would would not do to fret in silence. She must take action in her own hands.

One night she’d marched up to his usual spot, a large blanket in hand. She’d assisted in gathering the wool to weave it, so that she may press him into its use.

“Lord Hien—“

“The title sounds uncomfortable coming from you. Will you not address me by name, even now?” He sighed softly, but he patted a large and scarred hand beside him, beckoning for her company.

“Hien, then,” she nodded and sat down carefully, bringing her knees up to her chest, the blanket folded carefully in her arms.

“Would there be something particular you wish to discuss?” he canted his head and shamelessly stared into her eyes, attempting to discern her intent but instead it warmed her cheeks instantly. “Of course, a simple midnight chat is also welcome—we’ve little time to chat, but there’s much I wish to hear.”

How could a man be so straightforward?

“I—You’re cold,” she said flatly, and rebuked herself for the lack of a proper sentence. “You sleep here every night without any care to your well being. What if you were to fall ill? What would we do then?”

Hien, for once, looked at a loss. He stared at her with a bemused smile, a scarred eyebrow cocked as he thought up of a reply witty enough. “You sound much like Yugiri—if I were to fall prey to a gentle breeze as this, what kind of a prince would I be?”

“Princes are not immune to colds,” she huffed, and unfolded the blanket carefully. “Shun,” she added to enunciate her scolding properly.

His ears reddened adorably. “Why must you wound my pride so...I’m truly fine so—“

“I gathered all this wool myself, so you would have this. Please do not spurn my efforts so easily,” she hesitated briefly as she leaned over to drape the blanket, a sunny yellow like his attire, and bright like him, over his broad and toned shoulders. She had no trouble sparring with him, but as her hands drew near his skin, they began to tremble in the most irksome manner. “Erm…”

Hien coughed, side-eyeing her as his ears flushed once more. “I was not aware I’d receive such an honor--when have you the time for this?” He added, more curious. “With so much to do, you spared one inconsequential man so much effort?”

“A very consequential man,” she corrected, pulling the blanket over him and cocooning him like a child. He huffed lightly, his arms pinned to his side. She pulled the sheet taut over him, and it was an amusing sight to seem him so disgruntled.

“Thank you,” he sighed. “But I am not to be warm, while you are to freeze. He wriggled one arm free, and yanked her closer without warning. She yelped, and squeaked again as he huddled her beside him, so that they both could share the warmth of the blanket. “Better,” he said cheerfully, his self-satisfied grin ever present.

“H-Hien! What is the meaning of this?”

“You decided I should not be cold, and I decided you should not be cold.”

“That is all very well, and quite considerate of you but...I could…” Sleep by herself, under her own sheets, is what she meant to say. But her tongue would not spill the words.

Hien rest his cheek in his hand and regarded her carefully. His muted green eyes bore into hers intensely, a twinkle dancing over his irises that sent heat crawling up her neck. “Forgive me for being presumptuous, given our short time together, given your position and mine, and the circumstances that we must conquer—forgive me, if I may be too bold, and a thousand apologies in advance if I offend you—“

“You’re forgiven, Prince Hien, but only if you end begging my pardon.”

His lips twitched up at the corner, and he playfully nudged his uncovered shoulder to hers. “Oh very well. I simply wished for you to remain here with me. We see little of each other during the day and though I have much fear of misreading you...I had taken a gander that your sentiments matched mines.” Hurry he did with his statement—he exhaled his sentence in one breath, speaking more with the air of an unsure teenager rather than a charismatic leader. Though the echo granted her the talents to understand all languages, it took even her several moments to process this.

“Oh!” He was asking for her to stay the night! A forward offer indeed! But she would not deny it—she too, enjoyed being by his side. To hear him speak his mind, to watch the merriment of his adventures, and the depths of what ailed him. To share his warmth and hope that perhaps ilm by ilm, he would tuck her under his chiseled arm—or perhaps cage her with both, so that she may rest her head on his chest and fall asleep to the loud thumps of his active heart.

“Then shall you accept?” he asked hopefully, not unlike a puppy awaiting pets, if Hien had a tail she was sure that he would be wagging it. There is so much more I would learn of you, if you would oblige my selfish request.” He side eyed her once more, not wholly able to meet her gaze. “Feel free to discard everything that has just come out of my mouth and do not look down on Doma for my transgre—“

“Enough!” she cried, and put her hands over his mouth. “For a forward Prince determined to have the Xaela at his helm, you take too much formality with me!” It was a short tirade, but she still huffed up at him, cheeks red faced from either exertion or embarrassment. He raised his eyebrows with either surprise or amusement, likely an amalgamation of the two, and placed his hands over hers. He dwarfed her easily. His hands that were even tougher, even more calloused, and yet more scarred than her comparatively tinier ones. His wide fingers hooked around the edges of her palms, though he did not pull just yet.

“Would you release me?” full lips tickled her skin as he spoke right into her hand. She nodded quickly, but unable to acquiesce as he kept her hands to himself. With a sly wink and a kiss to her palm, he withdrew her hands from his mouth and squeezed them in his own. “There we go. No more formalities. In a blink of an eye, we’ve grown close.”

“They say love blossoms in the face of adversity—“ By the Twelve! Love! Was she a fool! She begun to now set out on _her_ string of apologies, but Hien merely grinned even _more_ broadly, if that was even possible.

Shamelessly, he returned her palms to his mouth, to kiss the concave of each. “Indeed it does. Even so, we’ve both faced many trials. You perhaps far more than I—yet I’ve yet to feel such a connection to anyone else, though I speak not for your heart.” Hien then took her right hand and pressed it flat over his heart, beating excitedly and greeting her touch with a loud welcome. “This is the truth of mine.”

Leave it to him to have such flowery yet utterly genuine words that had her melting faster than Alphinaud in water.

“Hien...I...is this right?”

“Must it be? I see no fault with it. ‘Tis no sin—with such unfortunate events, is affection so despicable?”

“It is complicated I am sure but...when it is just us, I’m afraid I become selfish.”

“And I am all the more greedy,” Hien spoke with such fervor and heat in his voice, and he held her wrists at once, and faced her properly, so that when he pulled her close she landed right upon his lap. He allowed her hands to rest on the back of his neck as she settled in. She huffed a few words of protest that she meant not at all—for she returned the desperation of his stare, and she gently stroked the heated flesh of his neck, her fingers dancing in search of more. “I shall indulge in every moment we have, steal you all for myself.” He bent forward his head so that their foreheads may meet, their skin aflame with the deluge of their emotions. His voice now dropped to a hush, as he continued to sway her. “I’ll persuade you with every ilm of my being for you to remain—and I am tenacious enough to extend the duration indefinitely.” He cupped her soft cheeks; his knuckles strayed over her jaw. He left one hand to caress, and the other to cup her chin with his forefinger and thumb, strong, but so very gentle. Whatever you ask of me shall be yours—if my affections prove to be fervent you must tell me, for I fear,” his thumb now brushed up over her lower lip. “I might overwhelm you.”

“Your affections are desired,” she said, fighting through her endless blushing to be as true to him as he was to her.  “And highly sought after but your—mmph!” At the word “desired” Hien’s eyes flashed with something that could only be desire, for his lips were on hers before she could end her sentence. He kissed her gently at first, though by the way he fidgeted, it was clear that it took much grace for him to hold back. His strokes continued over her cheek to a set rhythm, though his toes tapped against the ground impatiently. She returned his sweet kiss with an ear to ear grin, as she softly pecked his lips, far softer than she’d imagined (and yes, she’d imagined this moment many times). He moved his lips from hers, so that she may regain her bearings. “But your words, however, are what will melt me into a puddle.”

“Then may my actions speak for me,” he whispered so close that she felt his feverish tone to her core, and was all too ready when he’d pinned her to the ground with a playful growl, smirking at her with triumph. “Your night and prowess hold a magnificent beauty, but having you flustered is a sight that I’ll prefer to keep for mine own eyes only.”

“Hien...the way you speak, I’ll remain flustered forever. And then you shall have to find someone else to aid in liberating Doma.”

“Hmm, a difficult decision indeed. What is a man to do?” He nipped at her neck playfully, and she giggled as his beard tickled her skin.

“I shall leave it to you, my prince. But perhaps a few hints may be in order…” her hands roamed in suggestion, one upwards to undo the tie of his hair, and another lower, to guide him to touch where his eyes wandered.

And so, he followed.

 

//optional smut follow up shall be posted as first one shot in Deluge! To be posted on my profile when I get it written up, and link will be added here too~ <https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335595/chapters/40784834>


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